Glue
by silvereyed angel
Summary: Because he's more then the dreamer, more then the cloud-shaped-bunny-lover, more then the starbucks addict and because we all know we love him.


Kevin. Always in the background, on the left. Rocking out his soul. He's the glue.

* * *

"No Joe! We can't do the lyrics like that. The melody would be wrong! You see, right there." Nick points out, sighing over the guitar he's holding, ticking his index finger on the papers lying in front of him and his older, more flat haired brother.

"But it would be so cool if we did it that way, just hear it for a second." Joe brings in. His tambourine forgotten in the chair behind him as he's fallen down on his knees in front of the small table.

It's not unusual for them to be like this, because they only do it because they love each other and the band. It's not a fight. It's an argument.  
Their parents don't even bother anymore, Frankie goes upstairs.

The argument gets more intense, as both boys' temperaments heat up.

"Joe!" Nick whines. "It just doesn't fit, we would be adding to many syllables, too many words_!_" His curls messy in his face, his eyes fixed on Joe's face.

"But it sounds ah-mah-zing!" Joe counters, striking his own hair out of his face. Both of their brown eyes staring into each other now, not with anger, but with serious intenseness.

"Guys!" A voice suddenly interrupts them.

"What?!" They both snap, before their faces turn soft at the sight of their older brother.

"How about we erase the word 'the' and 'other'. The line will sound the same…" He starts.

"And we have enough syllables!" Nick yells. "That's brilliant and then, we could follow up with a line of four, starting with D and C. That would sound…"

"Ah-mah-zing!" Joe finishes, both of them bent over the previously finger-attacked papers, only now side by side, as two puzzle pieces, like they should.

Kevin leans back, a smile on his face as he watches his brothers fuss over the next pieces.

* * *

"I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't…"  
Joe chants to himself. So pale there can't be more contrast between him and the red-rose in his trembling hands.

Nick sighs, slamming his locker closed. "Of course you can do it. You're Joe 'Danger' Lucas." He tells his brother.

Joe looks at Nick with an agonised look. "What if she doesn't like me?"

Kevin snickers, this time not over bears-in-bikini-thoughts. "You and her are practically attached by the hip!" He laughs.

"That doesn't have to mean she likes me? Does it? Does it!" Joe yelps, clutching his older brother's T-shirt.

"Look out! You're hurting the poor little rose!" Kevin shouts, gently removing Joe's fingers from his shirt. "And I don't think Stella is going to like you if you ruin my shirt."

"What are you so nervous about anyway?" Nick questions the nervous young man. Lifting his bag over his shoulder, a semi-concentrated look on his face as he is probably thinking of new songs he can make with Joe's love disaster. "You've given Stella roses before, haven't you?"

"But those were yellow and purple and pink! This one's _red_."

Nick rolls his eyes and then semi-smiles, as Nick is never smiling a lot. "Well, good luck man, here she comes."

Joe jumps around, practically slamming into the lockers. The rose behind his back.

"Hey Stella!" He practically yells at the poor blonde.

"Hi Joe." She hesitatingly answers him, uncertainly smiling. "Hey guys. What's up?"

"Nothing? Why would anything be up? Nothing's up! Absolutely nothing is up! Up nothing is." Joe babbles, smiling brightly.

"Okay." Stella answers, now really confused as her eyebrows rise and her lips purse. "I just wanted to know what you guys were doing and if we were still on for lunch to discuss your outfit for tonight's concert, but apparently, you're not doing very much. Are you?"

"Nope." Joe smiles again. "Absolutely nothing and of course we'll be there at lunch, there's absolutely no reason we wouldn't be."

He pushes the rose into Kevin's chest and swings his arm over Stella's shoulders. Said stylist sending the other brothers a confused look. The rose now hidden behind their backs, before the two of them walk away, still oblivious to their obvious liking each other.

Nick lets out a long sigh as he stares after the two best-friends. "Sometimes, I wonder if mom and dad were lying when they assured me you two actually were my brothers."

Kevin shrugs. "Don't look at me; he's the one with the freaky flat hair."

"True. You coming to that lunch or what?" Nick asks, running his hand through his own curls.

"Err. Yeah, I'll be there in a few. I'm going to… Err… Get Macy! She will love to be there and she should really… yeah." Kevin answers, a little too quickly and a little to high. The beautiful red rose still clutched in his hands.

With that, he turns around, after receiving a curious and slightly hurt glance from Nick.

Nick frowns, looking after his bother, who was, as usual, acting kind of weird. _Going to get Macy!_ Wasn't that something he should be doing?

With a shrug, he turns around too, calculating the most likely place for Stella and Joe to have lunch in his head, along with lining up the inspiration he got from Joe's little love-disaster.

* * *

"Dad! You cannot have lost our lyrics!"

"I'm sorry, I had them, they were brilliant by the way, just a few minutes ago!"

Tom is stressing out. His tie is loosely hanging around his neck as he frantically searches for the previously named papers.

"Where'd you last see them?" their mom asks him, concerned for her boy's hard work.

"I don't know! I was to busy reading them I completely forgot what I was doing. It's what a manager does, doesn't he?

"It's okay dad." Nick reassures him from behind the couch. "This could've happened to anyone, it's just a really big bummer it's happening now. We are supposed to give them to Mr. Meckle this afternoon!"

That sentence sends a new rush of anxiety through all the Lucas's bodies. Joe lifting up both the fruit-bowl and the abandoned colander in the corner of the room as Nick now searches their Irish hats in pure desperation. Mom searching the bookshelf, though that is usually only used by her and Nick, while dad's back can be seen from underneath the kitchen table.

Well, _almost_ all of them are searching.

"What did dad loose?" Kevin asks, looking at everyone in the room with different kinds of confusion.

"The lyrics for the new album!" Nick informs him.

"Don't you always make copies?"

"Elvis ate the copies." Joe answers.

Kevin's mouth forms a perfect 'O' before he walks towards the kitchen, opens a cupboard and fetches the cookie-jar.

"Kevin, I don't think it's the right time for coo…" Nick begins, before receiving the lyrics-papers from Kevin neatly shuts him up.

"Told you I wasn't stealing your cookies." Kevin adds, completely serious, before he is walking up the stairs again, after stealing an apple from Joe's fruit-bowl.

Overjoyed, dad immediately goes off to call Malcolm Meckle. For safety reasons giving the lyrics to his wife, as Nick mutters to Joe: "I'm just wondering how exactly Kevin knew the lyrics were there when he isn't the one stealing my cookies."

* * *

"Oh my! Macy will you look at this?" Stella squeals, admiring the beautiful red rose she just found in her locker.

"Oh, it's beautiful." Macy agrees with her. A hockey stick swung over her left shoulder. "Who do you think it's from?"

"Well, I haven't had my friendship-rose from Joe, yet. But I mean, this one's red, red isn't for friendship, is it?"

"Do you think…?" Macy questions, her head tucked.

"That Joe… This rose…?"

"Means that he…"

"No! Right?" Stella finishes her bff's line. An uncertain look in her eyes as she glances at Macy, who shrugs.

"He wasn't acting like he did something romantic during your lunch-meeting." She wonders. "Usually you notice it when he does something like that."

Stella bites her bottom-lip. "Yeah, he's like an open book ever since kindergarten."

"I know!" Macy agrees. Swinging her hockey-stick to the other side to brush her hair out of her eyes. "I mean, it's so obvious he likes you."

Both of the girls smile at each other brightly.

"I know, right?" Stella giggles, their hips bouncing against each other for a second before they walk towards the stairs.

"I just wonder how, whoever gave me the red-rose to me…" She winks at Macy. "Got access to my locker?"

That makes both of them frown. Staring into space for a few seconds.

"He could've asked Kevin. He's pretty good with locks." Macy says, showing off her perfect JONAS knowledge. "And I bet Nick would be smart enough to figure out your code."

Stella nods. Completely forgetting they are talking about a speculative person.

"Talking about Nick of Jonas." Macy continues with a smile. Making Stella grin.

"What about him, found a brick that looks like his face?"

"No, though that would be really cool." Macy dreams about the image for a few seconds. "I wondered if you wanted to thank him from me, since I have hockey-practise."

"Oh right, late practise, right?" Stella says, looking at Macy with an apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry I can't pick you up. My car has completely given up on me, so I have to drive with Joe…"

After the giggle fit that follows that sentence, Stella continues.

"What do you want me to thank him for?"

"For inviting me to the lunch-meeting. Kevin said he invited me."

Stella looks at her best friend for a second, frowning as her Stella-senses tingle loudly, her lips pursed again in a thoughtful expression. "Huh, those boys are getting romantically courageous."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, I'll give him your thanks. Hey, maybe he can give you a ride tonight!" She suggests.

"That would be awesome!" Macy marvels, as Stella expertly dodges the hockey-stick. Grabbing Macy's arm to avoid innocent people getting hurt.

From a distance, a curly haired boy with a book about chocolate-chipmunks underneath his arms smiles, not just because of the book.

* * *

"So, Fiona Skye." The interviewer dude behind the desk asks Joe, who immediately shuffles uncomfortably in his seat.

"Well yeah, that was…" He starts explaining.

"They say you broke her heart, Joe!" The man accuses Joe.

"I? Broke _her_ heart?" Joe asks in return, eyes wide.

"She says and I quote: 'He lied to me, he broke my heart and even made accusing pictures of me. He's a jerk!' What about that Joe?"

Joe's mouth hangs open in hurt.

Then, Kevin's hand is on his shoulder and his mouth clamps shut.

"I think this is more about Fiona trying to get her revenge on Joe, though she wasn't particularly nice to Joe either. She used him." Nick tells the interviewer.

"How exactly?" He goes on, intended on a scoop.

"I think that is something between Joe and Fiona, but I can assure you that Fiona isn't the victim here. Or at least, not the only victim." Nick tells him. His three-points-shy-of-a-genius-attitude putting the interviewer off and Kevin's hand leaves Joe's shoulder.

"You know who the real victims are?" He asks the crowd. "Lemurs…"

* * *

"So we'll begin with world war III." Dad instructs the three boys in front of him, as Stella fiddles with their clothes. "And after that Nick will do give love a try and…"

"Dad!" Kevin interrupts. "Chill. We know what we're doing." His smile only half reassures his father, as he doesn't see the absolute confidence Kevin radiates, like his brothers do.

"Okay, okay. I'm just… Okay. Important concert, I don't want you to screw up." Dad tells them. Loosening his tie as he starts to sweat, again. "Lots of important people watching and…"

"We'll blow their mind!" Joe shouts, pumping his fist into the air. A little too hard.

"Joe! Stand sti… Oh no!" Stella moans. As a loud ripping noise comes from Joe's back.

Nick looks at the rip in his brother's shirt in horror and Kevin bares his teeth in a compassionate expression.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no!" Stella chants, her head in her hands. Her voice muffled by the pins between her lips.

"Can you fix it?" Joe almost begs.

"Not in time." She tells him, horrified

They look at each other and then at the exposed skin of Joe's back.

"Fix it. I'll go see if I can give us some more time." Dad whispers and disappears.

It is quiet for a few moments, before Kevin falls to his knees and tugs at the fashionable tear in Joe's skinny's.

"What are you doing!?" Stella all but screams.

"It's world war III, right? Tears won't look off there, like we really fought. We go do the song, you get us spare outfits and we'll change in between give love a try." Kevin explains as he pulls his own shirt over his head. Nick already reaching for the scissors.

They hear their introduction-music, Stella pushing their last items in their hands as she shoos them to the podium.

While running, Nick pulls his now ripped shirt over his head, Joe tugs at another rip in his jeans and Kevin ruffles his hair.

Then, they stand in their positions and Kevin quickly swaps his little brother's hats, before they run on stage. Just in time.

* * *

Kevin sits in the park, on his favourite bench, by his favourite pond with his favourite ducks, re-reading fireball the pony, again. His favourite book, even though it's a child's book. He likes the story, not because it's simple and easily understandable, like Joe claims, but because of the moral. Never give up and always fight for the ones you love, it doesn't matter who or what you are, succeed you will, if you work hard enough for it. If your heart is filled with love, there's nothing else you need.

He looks up as he hears the laughing of children, they're playing football. A smile appears on his face as a boy miscalculates a throw and lands, face-down, in the mud. The boy laughs the hardest of all his friends, after they made sure he's okay. His brown-drippy face is adorable as he tries to hug the girl who helped him up. She squeals and runs away, successfully creating a new game: avoid the mud-monster.

They run past him and Kevin knows what's going to happen before the boy's foot hits the rock. So he grabs the boy's shirt with one hand, still holding the book in the other and gently pulls him up, before he sets the muddy-boy back on his feet and whispers: 'go over the bridge, that's faster.'

Within minutes, all children are laughing and playing in the mud, but Kevin is again absorbed in his book.

If your mouth holds only laughter, there's nothing you cannot do.

* * *

There they stand, the three brothers. Nick on the right, Joe in the middle and Kevin on the left. Ripped clothes new, but highly appreciated by the fans, who sigh about how hot they look.

Sweat runs over their bodies as they sing, beat and strum the hearts out of their chests. When Nick misses a beat, Kevin immediately covers it up with a bass note. Nobody notices anything. Joe runs out of breath once, but nobody notices because of the awesomely loud guitar-solo Kevin performs.

He looks into the crowd with a smile and doesn't notice all the Nick and Joe love-signs, he only sees the girl holding a guitar-formed sign with a heart on it. He only sees the shimmering eyes of the fans as they listen and he smiles and waves and smiles, because he loves them. All of them, like he loves his brothers.

They say he loves otters that play the trumpet, but that's nothing compared to what he feels for his brothers, his friends, his fans and it's nothing compared to what they feel for him. He keeps them together, a silent, but steady factor in the background. His brothers hold on to him, not because he's the oldest, but because they know they can go and explore unknown territory, because they know Kevin will always be there to fall back on. There's something inside of him that shines. Everyone knows, but not many realise.

He keeps them together; he's the weird one to keep them sane love always to find in his hazel eyes, because when your heart is filled with love, there's nothing else you need.

He's there, always. Whether leading them to the nearest starbucks or teaching them how to draw within the lines. Voluntarily taken on shopping sprees or jamming with the band.

Because Kevin is the glue.


End file.
